The Last Recruit
by aachannoichi
Summary: Captain Wesker of the yet unnamed new Raccoon City Police squad is finishing up his recruitment drive and has one candidate left to visit, but this particular candidate is the farthest thing from an ideal candidate.


The Last Recruit

Captain Wesker sat at his desk looking over all of the applications for the new branch of the Raccoon City Police Department. Between he and Captain Marini's recruitment efforts all but one of the allotted eight spots were filled. Officer Forest Speyer, Pilot Bradley Vickers, Officer Joseph Frost. Barry Burton, who wasn't an officer in the RPD, but a recruit from the Air Force. Jill Valentine, a recruit from the Army's Delta force. Kenneth Sullivan a brilliant chemist from Umbrella's rival Pharmaceutical Company SmidtClyne, and Detective Richard Aiken.

There was just one spot remaining and at least sixty potential candidates were vying for a chance to become a member of this new police unit. For a few days, Captain Marini had insisted on hiring Officer Kevin Ryman, but after conducting two very exasperating interviews with Officer Ryman, Wesker couldn't see him as a member of this new unit even despite having prestigious credentials and coming highly recommended by several officers on the force. There was just something about Kevin that rubbed Captain Wesker the wrong way; he was just too cheerful, almost to a sickening degree, so he would not be joining the group.

There was another person that came highly recommended that wasn't a member of the Raccoon City Police Department or in the military. He was one of Barry's old friends from the Air Force, what was his name again? Captain Wesker sifted through the piles of applications on his desk until he came across his name. After a moment or two of searching, he finally found the application his was looking for.

"Christopher Redfield." Captain Wesker said softly as he picked up the application.

Opening up the four paged application, Captain Wesker noticed there was more missing on the form than filled out. In fact, other than his name, social security number, telephone number, and address, the rest of the form was blank. Normally this would be cause to immediately toss the application in the reject pile, but at Barry's insistence he decided to take a gamble at least speak with some of Christopher's former CO's and not judge him based solely on his inability to fill out an application. Much to his surprise, all of Mr. Redfield's former commanding officers had generally positive things to say about Christopher. They said he was bright, a quick learner, friendly, and one of the best marksmen they had ever seen; he was the best shooter in the state of New York having won countless awards for the sport both before and during his seven year stint in the Air Force.

After listening to their kind praises, Captain Wesker decided to actually speak with Christopher before dismissing him from the pile of other candidates. Taking a quick glance at his watch and noting the time, Captain Wesker took Christopher's application, got up from his cushy leather chair, and grabbed his coat and car keys before walking around the desk and out of the office. Dashing to the parking lot and entering his car, Captain Wesker took a look at the application one last time to make note of the address before driving out of the parking garage.

Christopher had just woken up from his afternoon nap. With Barry and his family gone, he could smoke and drink without making Mrs. Kathy Burton upset. He just opened all the windows and the back patio doors to let out the cigarette smoke. He figured if he left them opened after each cigarette, there would be no lingering smell for her to complain about when they arrived home on Tuesday. She was a nice lady, but a bit of a ball buster when she was displeased. Once all the windows were opened, a chilling mid-October wind blew through the windows. He shivered and walked back into the sparsely furnished den that was his temporary bedroom.

Grabbing a bottle of bourbon that he hid behind the couch, Christopher plopped down on the sofa, opened the bottle, and took a long guzzle. The bourbon tasted like a combination of lighter fluid, turpentine, and stale corn chips. It was cheap, very cheap, but it got the job done. And with the Burton's gone for the weekend to visit Kathy's family, he could as get drunk as he wanted to; and drunk off his ass was exactly how he intended to spend his long weekend alone. Taking another swig, Christopher lay down upon the dark maroon sofa and pulled out a new pack of Marlies cigarettes. Quickly tearing into the crystal clear cellophane and gold Mylar wrapping, he popped one of the long white sticks into his mouth and lit the tip. Breathing in the dark flavor of the nicotine, his nerves began to settle and his whole body seemed to melt into oblivion.

While he was enjoying his cigarette and cheap booze, the doorbell rang and was followed by a stern knock. Groaning at the thought of someone daring to interrupt his solo time, Christopher got up and sauntered to the door. He figured if he took a long enough time, whomever was at the door would eventually give up and go away, but the doorbell rang once more.

"Coming!" He grumbled as he slowly made his way through the house towards the front door.

The doorbell rang again and was followed by another demanding knock.

"All right!" Christopher shouted angrily. "I said I'm coming!"

Christopher picked up his pace and finally made it to the door. Unlatching the chain lock, then turning the deadbolt, Christopher turned the knob and opened the door. On the other side stood a tall man with short cut blonde hair, dark sunglasses, and he was wearing a Raccoon City police officers uniform.

"Cigarettes will kill you, you know." The tall blonde man on the opposite side of the door deep baritone voice sternly spoke before Christopher could even eke out a word.

"What did you say?" Christopher answer with a snap in his tenor voice.

"You heard me." The blonde man said with a cocky arrogance. "Cigarettes will kill you."

"Yeah." Christopher snapped again. "Thanks for the tip buddy."

"You're quite welcome." He replied firmly.

"Can I help you with something?" Christopher asked with a hint of vitriol in his voice.

"Yes," The man said. "I am the Captain of the new Raccoon City Police squad..."

"Oh, you're Barry's new boss." Christopher said interrupting him. "Well, he and his family are out of town and they won't be back until Tuesday night."

"It's not Barry I'm looking for." The man said with his deep stern voice unwavering. "Are you Christopher Redfield?"

"In the flesh." He answered snidely.

"Good." The blonde man answered. "I'm Captain Albert Wesker and I'd like to talk to you. Do you mind if I come in?"

Christopher stepped aside as Captain Wesker stepped into the small foyer. Closing the door behind the captain, Christopher then led him into the family room and bade Captain Wesker to sit on the tan sectional sofa, which he did. For a moment, neither Captain Wesker nor Christopher spoke to one another. Through his dark tinted sunglasses, Captain Wesker sized up the young man before him. His outward appearance was disgusting; his greasy dark brown hair looked as though it hadn't been brushed or washed in a few days. He was fairly young, but no one would be able to tell with that disgusting stubble around his mouth and chin. Also his clothes were disgustingly dirty, with stains of various kinds all over them. Everything about Christopher's appearance screamed slacker, but this could not be the entire story behind Mr. Redfield at least not the story he had heard from his former commanding officers. Captain Wesker was determined find out exactly what kind of man Christopher Redfield was way or another.

"So," Christopher said sitting down on the other side of the sectional. "You came all the way out here just to talk to me?"

"Yes." Captain Wesker replied. "And it looks like I got here in the nick of time."

"What makes you say that?" Christopher asked.

"The acrid smell of cheap liquor on your breath; if I got here in another thirty minutes or so, you'd probably be falling down drunk." Captain Wesker replied quickly. "It's only, what? Five thirty in the evening and you're already getting drunk?"

"It's Friday." Christopher replied haughtily.

"It's not even 7 PM yet." Wesker interjected.

"Its seven o'clock somewhere." He answered.

"Ah yes." Wesker said sardonically. "The axiom of the drinking man."

"Are you just going to criticize my bad habits or did you have another reason for being here?" Christopher half yelled.

"I understand what your CO meant." Captain Wesker said with a smirk. "He said you were bright but make the worst decisions imaginable."

Christopher looked at Captain Wesker strangely, but did not comment.

"Major Aaron Farhaber of the United States Air Force." Wesker continued. "He had a lot of nice things to say about you. And some not so nice things too."

"Really?" Christopher said. "Like what?"

"He said that when it came to a mission you would rather die than leave anyone behind." Wesker said.

"True." Christopher agreed.

"He also said you were extremely adaptable to changing situations." Wesker continued. "He even stated you are completely dedicated and a great team player, when you weren't being obstinate and insubordinate."

"His words?" Chris asked suspiciously.

"I cleaned them up a lot." Wesker admitted. "But those are pretty much his words."

Christopher couldn't help but chuckle.

"I talked to a few of your former commanding officers." Captain Wesker continued. "They all reiterated the same thing Major Farhaber said; good at everything you set your mind to, but terrible at following orders, overly impetuous, and you have a predilection for making the worst life choices possible. My guess is you went into the Air Force because you know this about yourself and you were hoping the discipline in the military would make you a better person."

"Is that a fact?" Christopher asked as he blew out a puff of smoke from his cigarette.

"Yes." Captain Wesker replied assured of his assessment. "And now that you have completely sabotaged the only glimmer of hope you had to change your personality, you want to just throw the rest of your life away in an inebriated stupor."

"You presume to know a lot about me." He said puffing out another cloud of cigarette smoke.

"Not really." Captain Wesker said. "That's why I came to talk to you. I need to understand a few things before I make my final decision about you."

"Ok." Christopher said taking the last drag of his cigarette. "So what do you want to know? I have a long and shitty disciplinary file."

"I am well aware." Captain Wesker replied.

"I haven't worked in nearly a year since I was kicked out of the Air Force." He continued to snap.

"I know." Wesker answered.

"And you're still considering hiring me?" Christopher questioned strangely.

"Yes." Captain Wesker said.

"Why?" He couldn't help but ask the obvious question.

"Despite your apparent attempt at self-sabotage," The captain began. "You have the makings of a quick mind. You also possess determination against all odds."

"And what makes you say that after only meeting me for about five minutes?" Christopher asked.

"In these five minutes you have done everything possible to deter me from hiring you." He answered.

"I take it, it hasn't worked?" Christopher asked putting out his cigarette with his fingers.

"Not in the least." Captain Wesker answered.

"Gees." Christopher said slouching down onto the back cushions. "You must be hard up for people to join your little group."

"On the contrary," Wesker answered. "I have about sixty better qualified candidates who, unlike yourself, actually bothered to fill out the application in its entirety."

"Then why are you wasting time with me?" He snapped.

Captain Wesker stared at Christopher a bit before answering, "I wanted to see if you have the potential I hear so many others speak about."

"So let me get this straight?" Christopher questioned. "You drove forty-five minutes from RPD headquarters, to meet me, just to see if I have '_potential'_?"

"Yes, I think the others are correct, you do possess a lot of potential." Captain Wesker said. "But I know how scared you are."

"Scared?" He questioned sounding completely astonished by Wesker's choice of words. "What could I possibly be afraid of?"

"Success." Captain Wesker stated emphatically, not hesitating to answer his question. "Happiness. Possibly growing up and leaving your juvenile susceptibilities behind you, choose one."

Christopher sat there quietly because he knew Captain Wesker was completely accurate in his assessment of his fears, but he would never in a million years admit to this guy he was right. Nevertheless, how could he possibly have known all of this about him in such a short time meeting him?

"Since you are so adamant on dissuading me from hiring you, how about this?" Wesker said. "You are supposed to have the best marksmanship scores in your home state of New York."

"Yeah." Christopher said with a little pride in his voice. "I was the best in the state from the age of 12 until I left last year. Hell, I nearly made it to the Olympics."

"Well, I am this states' current marksmen champion and I have the highest scores on the Raccoon City Police Force." Captain Wesker said.

"So?" Christopher questioned.

"If you can beat me then I'll offer you the position on the squad." Captain Wesker answered. "You should have no problem besting me if were nearly in the Olympics."

"Are you serious?" Christopher asked skeptically.

"I never joke Mr. Redfield." Captain Wesker answered sternly. "I will meet you at RPD Headquarters on Monday morning at 10 sharp. We'll do an hour long session, one part will be 30 minutes on the firing range and the other will be on the gun training range, what do you say?"

Christopher looked at Captain Wesker strangely. This was probably the weirdest job interview he had ever had, not to mention the most bizarre follow up interview. Everything about this didn't seem normal, but it did arouse his natural curiosity, as well as his highly competitive side. Christopher mulled this invitation over in his mind for a good long while. He thought about the chance to thoroughly trounce this cocky bastard, so it was worth it to show him what exactly he was made of.

"So all I have to do is beat you and you'll give me the job?" Christopher questioned.

"Yes." Captain Wesker replied. "But if you don't think you can handle it, just say so now and I'll move on to my other candidates."

"No-no." Christopher said sternly. "I can handle it. I'll be there."

"Good." Captain Wesker said getting up from the sofa. "I will see you at 10 AM on Monday. Please be on time and sober, because I intensely dislike having my valuable time wasted."

Captain Wesker walked out of the family room, through the foyer, and out the front door without even saying goodbye to Christopher. Meanwhile, Christopher mulled everything Captain Wesker said and he was correct; he did fear success and happiness, but why? He spent all those years in the Air Force trying to figure out why those things frightened him so much, but he could never uncover the answer. But regardless of the root of his fears, he was rather intrigued by Captain Wesker's weird invitation. He knew he wanted to beat him badly, but this guy seemed so self-assured and to be the state champion meant he was probably very good and not to be underestimated. If he was going to win this match, he would have to be well prepared and at the top of his game, which meant he would have to stop drinking; at least for the weekend.

The rest of the weekend went by in a blur. Christopher did his best to prepare for this match and against Captain Wesker. The following day after his meeting with Captain Wesker, Christopher spent the entire day Saturday at the firing range to bone up on his skills, which were admittedly rusty. His first day of practicing was riddled with disappointment. Most of his shots were in the below average to average range, but he was determined to improve his scores. It was that determination which spring boarded his scores by Sunday afternoon. After spending another full day at the firing range, he was once again close to 98% in both pistol and rifle shooting. Oddly enough, it felt very good to be back on the firing range and practice for a competition again. Christopher forgot all about the natural adrenalin high that came with competition and that rush felt much better than consuming any drink or even inhaling an entire pack of cigarettes. Moreover was the pride he felt improving his scores through diligence and hard work. He intended to show this Wesker guy, just how good of a marksmen he really was.

Monday came quickly, and Christopher couldn't wait to get to RPD headquarters. He woke up extra early to shower, shave, and look presentable as possible before the cab came to pick him up and take him downtown. The driver easily navigated through the light late morning traffic, which pleased Christopher, today would be a good day. In practically no time at all, he was at RPD HQ and even standing in front of the temporary office of the new police squad. Slicking his dark brown hair back, Christopher took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly as he walked up to the RPD Team A office and opened the door.

"Good morning Mr. Redfield." Captain Wesker said kindly. "I see you've decided to come today."

"Yeah." Christopher said walking into the small office and closing the door behind him. "I said I would be here and I'm here."

"Good to know you are a man of your word." Captain Wesker said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." He said taking another deep breath and exhaling.

"Good." Captain Wesker said. "Please follow me."

Captain Wesker led him out of the office, up the basement stairs, and down a few halls when he had finally come to the firing range. Opening the door, they were both greeted by the range keeper, who issued both men noise reducing earphones. Captain Wesker also borrowed a Beretta 9mm handgun with plenty of extra ammo for Christopher to use during the exercise, and about a dozen targets for this first part. Captain Wesker thanked the range keeper and led Christopher to a spot for them to begin their competition.

"The first hour of this will be to test your ability to use a firearm." Captain Wesker said. "I know of your abilities on paper, I just want to see them for myself."

"I'll try not to disappoint." Christopher said snidely.

Captain Wesker did not respond to the snide remark.

"We'll take short intervals to reload the gun and refresh the targets, otherwise we will not take a break until the 30 minutes is over." Captain Wesker said placing his target sheet on the line then readying his firearm. "When you are prepared we can begin."

Christopher readied his target and positioned himself to begin firing.

"I'm ready." Christopher said sternly.

"Begin!" Captain Wesker shouted.

Both men began to blast away at the targets in front of them, only pausing briefly reload their spent weapons or refresh their bullet riddled targets. When the thirty minutes was over, both Christopher and Captain Wesker gathered up their targets and placed them on the long table behind them. Captain Wesker was impressed with Christopher's accuracy. Most of the shots were in the 8 and 9 range, but there were a few that were in the 10 spot, and what looked like at least one bull's eye and another three close to the bull's eye, but not exactly there. As promised, Christopher was indeed good with a gun, perhaps even a little better than himself, but not by much.

After careful examination of both Christopher's and his targets, Captain Wesker gathered up the targets and stacked them neatly to the side, before ushering Christopher out of a side door and into the gun training room. This room was fairly large and replicated the urban environment of Raccoon City, with simulated buildings around the room.

"This is the RPD gun training range." Captain Wesker said sternly. "In here is where police officers train themselves for situations in the downtown area of Raccoon City."

"Man, this place is huge." Christopher said sounding completely awestruck.

"Yes, it's about 1000 square feet." Captain Wesker said. "It was one of the first rooms completed in the modernization project headquarters is currently undergoing."

Captain Wesker holstered his firearm and continued to speak, "How this will work, is you will follow the pathway and when you see an enemy target you must find ways to take him down, either using lethal or non-lethal force."

Captain Wesker walked over a nearby wall and pulled one of the weapons and an additional clip for it from the wall.

"This is what you will be using in this room." He said handing the completely black gun to Christopher. "It is loaded with blanks and can shoot about fifteen rounds before needing to be reloaded. It reloads just like a standard issue Beretta 92F, so you shouldn't have any trouble with it."

"Ok." Christopher said.

"Also, your gun has a small sensor on it." Captain Wesker said sternly. "You will have the ability to shoot at targets and some of those targets have the ability to shoot you."

"Really?" Christopher said sounding shocked.

"Yes." Captain Wesker replied. "And while you may not feel the shot from the target, the sensor will transmit the shot to this computer that I will be monitoring."

"I see." Christopher said. "It's sorta like playing laser tag."

"Yes, in a way." Captain Wesker replied. "It's designed to give you a sense of urgency, because as an officer of the law, you will have to react both quickly and appropriately to every potentially dangerous situation."

"I see." Christopher answered. "How long do I have to complete this course?"

"Just thirty minutes." Captain Wesker said. "Any time you're ready, you can begin."

Taking a quick inhale and exhale to settle his nerves, Christopher steadied his hand and stood at the entrance of the training course.

"I'm ready." He said firmly.

"One more thing Mr. Redfield." Captain Wesker said. "Because this course has such a brief time limit, I've had the more difficult pathways blocked, so you can only come and go through this exit."

"That was thoughtful." Christopher mumbled.

"At your ready Mr. Redfield." Captain Wesker said ignoring his comment.

Christopher turned and faced the entrance again, "I'm ready."

"Begin." Captain Wesker said.

Christopher ran into the training area while Captain Wesker stood outside monitoring Christopher's progress. As a marksmen he was extremely accurate, but he was reckless. It didn't take long before Christopher was shot by one of the targets, but all his take downs of enemy targets were flawless. Just in viewing him in action, Captain Wesker had a feeling he would be a valuable asset to his new team, if he chose to hire him that is. His recklessness would be a challenge overcome and he would definitely be a handful to control, but it was exactly as the officers said, despite his negative qualities lies a wealth of untapped potential to achieve great things.

When the thirty minutes were up, Christopher walked out confident that he had aced this little trial run. Captain Wesker got up from the computer and walked over to the wall where there weapons were and he chose a different black replica Beretta 92F and another clip.

"You're going in?" Christopher asked.

"This is a competition Mr. Redfield." Captain Wesker said sternly. "I must participate."

Before Christopher could sit down next to the computer, Captain Wesker ran into the training area to begin his portion. Christopher watched in awe as most of the captain's takedowns were non-lethal hits. Also, the captain was careful to avoid enemy fire, but Christopher attributed that to having practiced in here dozens of times, which hardly seemed fair and he would bring that up when the captain came out. When the 30 minutes were up, Captain Wesker walked out of the gun training area, pleased with his performance, but not cocky about it.

"How did I do?" He asked Christopher, who was staring dumbfounded at the computer monitor.

"A 94% in target takedown." Christopher answered reading the results off the screen. "With 67% being non-lethally taken down and 27% were lethal takedowns and you missed 6% of the targets all together."

Captain Wesker didn't say anything, he just put the replica pistol back on the wall and deposited the empty clips into a nearby receptacle.

"You took zero damage." Christopher added. "Which has to be because you've practiced on this stuff a few times."

"That's part of it." Captain Wesker said sternly. "The other part is knowing went to be impetuous and when to be cautious. A skill you've not yet learned Mr. Redfield."

"So what now?" Christopher said ignoring the statement.

"There can be no doubt of your abilities with a firearm Mr. Redfield." Captain Wesker began. "Your scores on the firing range are neck and neck with mine and as for the gun training, you could use a bit more practice, but you did clear every target."

"Damn right it did." Christopher said with pride.

"But you sustained a 42% injury rating and you shot a civilian target." Captain Wesker said.

Christopher was embarrassed and did not say anything.

"You are very reckless Mr. Redfield." Captain Wesker continued. "I can only hope with the passage of time and the proper training you learn to think before you act."

"Are you offering me the position?" Christopher asked eagerly.

"I need a few days to make a decision." Captain Wesker answered.

"I take that as a no." Christopher said preparing to storm out of the room.

"I didn't say that." Captain Wesker replied firmly.

"Yeah!" Christopher snapped. "But I know what "I need a few days" means, so spare me!"

With that Christopher stormed out of the room while Captain Wesker stood there emotionlessly.

"So reckless." Wesker sighed to himself.

Over the next few days, the Burton's returned home and Christopher had cleaned up both himself and the Burton's home. Barry was surprised to see Christopher up and about and also clean shaven and dressed in something other than dingy jeans and a ragged tee-shirt. Christopher had told him everything that happened while he was gone, and while Barry was surprised at his new CO's unusual recruitment style, he wasn't at all surprised at the end result. But at least Christopher had tried and he couldn't fault him for that.

"So what are you going to do Chris?" Barry asked.

"I'm thinking about going back to New York." He said. "I miss my folks and my sister. Plus it's time I stop moping around here and find something to do with my life."

"Well that's good you finally made a decision." Barry said. "I hate to see you leave though."

"Eh, it's okay." Chris said. "Besides, I'm sure your wife would like to have her den back anyway."

Just then Barry's two young daughters ran into the family room and tackled Chris.

"Uncle Chris! Uncle Chris!" Polly cried. "Let's play Hide-n-go-bear!"

"Hide-n-go-bear?" Barry questioned. "What in the world is Hide-n-go-bear?"

"It's a game we made up and Uncle Chris is the bear!" Moria answered happily. "He has to find us or we have to run from him."

Chris made a loud roaring sound and the girls ran off screaming and giggling to the back yard.

"The girls are going to miss you." Barry said.

"And I'll miss them too." Chris said. "But for now, THE BEAR IS HUNGRY FOR LITTLE GIRLS! ROAR!"

Chris dashed out of the family room and out the patio doors to chase after the girls. Barry smiled, it was nice to see Chris back in good spirits again. Getting up from the sectional Barry went to the kitchen to see his wife making lunch for everyone. Grabbing her by her slender waist, he kissed her on the cheek.

"It smells really good in her Kathy." Barry said.

"I'm making BLT's for lunch today." She said sweetly.

"Oh I can't wait." Barry said excitedly.

Just then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Kathy said sweetly. "Would you mind keeping an eye on the bacon so it won't burn?"

"The only thing that's going to burn in this kitchen is my passion for you." Barry said suavely clasping her waist tighter and kissing her on the neck.

"Cut that out." She giggled untangling herself from his embrace and dashing out of the kitchen door.

As she made her break, Barry swatted her on the bottom and she giggled again. Quickly making her way through the house, she answered the door and on the other side was a young man delivering an envelope.

"Hello." Kathy said kindly.

"Hello Miss." The young man said. "I have a registered letter for a Christopher Redfield."

"Yes, he's staying here." She said. "I can sign for him."

"Thank you Miss." The young man said handing her a slip to sign.

Kathy quickly signed the slip and handed it back to the currier, he then handed her the envelope and walked back to his delivery van. Closing the door, Kathy walked into the family room heading toward the patio door.

"Girls! Chris!" Kathy called. "It's nearly lunchtime! Come in and get ready to eat."

"Yes Mommy!" The girls yelled back.

Just then Chris roared loudly and the girls came running over to their mother. Chris, still playing the part of the bear, roared some more for the giggly little girls and followed behind them. Seeing Chris running in their direction, both Moria and Polly ran toward the downstairs bathroom and closed the door. Once Chris came to the threshold of the door, Kathy smiled and handed Chris the envelope.

"What's this?" He asked.

"A registered letter." She said kindly. "It just arrived."

"Do you know who it's from?" He asked.

"I'm sorry." She said. "I didn't think to look."

"No that's ok." He said. "I'll take a look right now, thank you Kathy."

Kathy turned and walked back into the kitchen, which Chris looked at the envelope. The return address was listed as a post office box in Arklay County, which was strange, because the only person he knew in town was Barry. Chris carefully tore open the flap of the envelope, then he pulled out the white sheet of folded up paper. Tugging at both ends of the letter, out popped a smaller blue colored sheet of paper which drifted to the floor. Bending over to pick it up, Chris saw that the blue paper was actually a check; a check for five thousand dollars!

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed.

Snatching the check up off the floor Chris opened up the letter, which was written on Raccoon City Police Department letterhead and his jaw hit the floor.

_Welcome to the Raccoon Police Department Special Team!_

_Please report to Raccoon City Police Department Headquarters 8 AM Monday October 23, 1995 to receive your weapon, have your ID card taken, and fill out all subsequent paperwork._

_Welcome aboard Mr. Redfield._

_Sincerely,_

_Captain Albert Wesker _

_Special Team Division Leader_

Chris was completely astonished, especially considering how badly he blew off Captain Wesker the last time they saw each other. Chris knew that he would have to swallow his pride and thank him when he went in on Monday morning. Walking out of the family room and over to the kitchen area, Chris saw that everyone was at the table and he couldn't help but smile at Barry and his wonderful family and with this new development, he would be able to spend all the time he wanted with them. Walking over to the table and pulling out his seat to sit with everyone, Chris smiled brightly at Barry.

"What that goofy grin for?" Barry asked.

"It looks like I'll be in Raccoon City for a little bit longer than I expected." Chris said cheerfully.


End file.
